The Work Of Shaughn Stanley
by ToKeepFromGoingUnder
Summary: A little story that I've made about a traumatic event in Cal's life and a lot of stuff happening from it. Suspense... ISH and some romance and comfort and fighting and all that good stuff
1. A Traumatic Event

A traumatizing event could be a little kid going to the water park and falling under the water for a couple seconds and getting scared. Thus, the kid would be too scared to ever return to the water park, because of that short moment when he couldn't breathe and got completely terrified.

A traumatizing event could be when a girl fell in love with a boy and then dated for three years and then she found out that he had been cheating on her for two of those three years. She would never be able to trust a boy again. She would think that she wasn't enough for any boy. She wouldn't love the same. She would be fragile.

A traumatizing event could be when a man is in war and watching his best friend get shot and bleed to death. He would never want to pick up a gun again. He would never want to fight again, because he wouldn't to risk bleeding to death because of gunshot wounds.

A traumatizing event could be a young boy singing for the talent show. A young boy that was a bully. A bad kid. No one would ever think that he might sing. Then he does bad because he loses his voice the night before because he practiced too much. He would be made fun of. He would never sing again. He would be terrified of messing up again.

A traumatizing event could also be Cal getting tortured. Not just tortured, but tortured in a uniquely special way. Tortured for no reason other then to send a message. Torture was never a good thing. It was painful and traumatizing. But this torturing. It was obviously the work of Shaughn Stanley. Shaughn Stanley didn't just torture people because he was bored. He wanted to send a message. He wanted people to see what he was trying to say or do.

Cal had been his unfortunate victim.

Three hours of vicious burning pain. Pain that didn't stop or let up or calm down or cool off. Pain that went from his head to his toes. Pain that left physical and mental scars. Pain that no person could just live with. Pain that would still be there, long after the actual event.

Cal didn't even know exactly what Shaughn did. He just knows the pain. He can still feel the pain, a month after getting out of the hospital, which means a month and three weeks since the event. The terrifying event.

The event that would change Cal's life forever.

Why did Shaughn do it? There were theories. Mostly Eli's.

Some consisted of Shaughn losing someone close to him because The Lightman Group sent them away with a case. But then Cal said that nobody could be close to Shaughn Stanley. That wasn't possible. Not even the devil could be close to Shaughn Stanley. And that's when everyone saw the real effect that Shaughn had made on Cal.

Shaughn Stanley had a reputation. A reputation of the worst and most vicious murderer in the world. But no one knew why he was called a murderer, because he had never been guilty of a murder. Not once. Not in anything that he ever did.

He didn't kill people. He put them through the worst pain anyone could ever imagine. He could make an Atheist cry as they prayed to the one and only God.

He had a reputation for his unique way of torture. You could tell if scars were the work of Shaughn's. He had some sort way of ruining anyone's innocence. Even though Cal was a strong man. It wasn't easy to shake him. It wasn't easy to scare him. Cal only got scared if Gillian or Emily were in trouble. You couldn't say that anymore, though. Shaughn had ruined any piece of strength that Cal had built up.

It was also obvious if Shaugh Stanley did it, because he branded an 'SS' on his victim's back. A big, messy, 'SS' on their back. Burned into their flesh. Like a horse. To mark them for the rest of their life. Another small one on their chest. Right over their heart.

Why on their back? Because eventually they might forget about it, but then other people could see it and ask what it meant, and then his victim is sucked into the pain again.

Another one on their heart to show that Shaughn's actions would always be stuck in their heart, and not in a good way.

Cal had it. A big 'SS' scarred on his back. Another small one on his chest.

He would never forget. He never could.

.:.

He was sitting in the house, on his couch. His feet were up on the table.

If anyone other than his close friends, or aquaintances - being Loker - walked in, they would never have known that he had been tortured.

There were no scars on his face, which Cal was happy about, but it was difficult to be happy because whenever he closed his eyes he saw Shaughn Stanely's face.

Having seen Shaughn's face didn't help Cal in anyway. It didn't help them find him. The FBI has been searching for Shaughn for years. At least eight if not more. Shaughn has never gotten sloppy. He's never gotten too cocky and messed up a little.

Cal being a victim is the closest that they have ever gotten to Shaughn. And it didn't help. Cal didn't help. He didn't want to be reminded. And lately, everyone had been doing good with being extra nice, even if he was a jerk to them.

Emily walked in and flopped down beside her father. She handed him a cup of tea and laid her head on his shoulder.

He was staring at the wall. He wasn't moving. He was somewhere else. He wasn't himself. He hadn't been himself since before the work of Shaughn Stanley.

She bit her lip and said, "Want to watch a movie?"

He blinked a couple times and looked down at her big brown eyes. He forced himself to smile and said, "Sure. What movie?"

His voice was hoarse. He was tired. He was always tired. He hadn't been sleeping very well lately.

"Um. I don't know." She was a little surprised that he had talked.

For the past week she had done the same thing.

Sit beside him and bring tea.

Ask if he wanted to watch a movie.

But every other time he said nothing. He would just sit there like she hadn't said anything. He was coming along. He was getting stronger. He was slowly coming back together.

"Funny or romantic?" She asked with a smile.

"Funny." He said.

"Ok... Hmm..." She stood up and started to walk towards the TV.

He got up and walked over with her.

He'd been doing that a lot. He didn't like being alone. Even if it was just on the other side of the room. He had been sticking with Emily alot. Emily and Gillian. He was almost always with one of them. He'd been sleeping in the guest room because it was closer to Emily's room.

She slipped into bed with him most nights. She would sleep with him like she used to sleep with he and Zoe when she had had a bad dream. But now it was him who had the bad dream. He needed to comfort, so she gave it to him. She'd snuggle up close to her father and fall asleep with him.

He didn't always sleep. She knew it, although if she woke up he would be quiet and try to make it seem like he was sleeping. He was restless. He still had images of Shaughn and she could tell. She couldn't point it out though. He needed to take care of this in his own way. That's what Gillian told her.

"Monty Python and the Holy Grail." He said over her shoulder.

She pulled it out and stood up, "Let's do it."

.:.

He wasn't worried. He never got worried, because the FBI always failed with their searches.

He was confident in himself. He moved locations all the time. He moved all over the United States. He had lived in every state at least twice. He moved a lot.

He had a lot of victims.

It wasn't exactly a job. It was more of a hobby.

He had discovered that he could do torture when he was fifteen.

He enjoyed seeing pain on people's paces.

He enjoyed watching people suffer.

He had been a freshman in highschool, skateboarding with friends. His best friend, Michael, had a vicious crash and fell off the ramp.

It was crazy disgusting and half of the other guys there ran away because they didn't want to see.

The bone in Michael's arm had pierced right through the skin.

Shaughn knelt down beside him and watched as his best friend cried in pain. And he liked it! He was a complete sicko. He didn't help Michael, he watched him cry and bleed.

Michael never talked to him again, but Shaughn didn't care. He dropped out of school and became a bad kid. He didn't have any guilt. He could kill somebody just to get food.

He became a sick and scary person that even adults knew to stay away from him, and he was only sixteen by then.

Life went on like that. He continued to hurt people.

Eventually, he figured it out that he could get away with it.

His father was a cop. He had told Shaughn about how criminals hid, and why they were so good at it. Shaughn was sure that when he told him these techniques, that he wasn't intending them to help Shaughn hide. He was wanting him to know how to catch criminals. But that would never happen.

It was too late now.

Life got harder when his sister died.

She didn't know about his sicko problem.

He didn't want her to.

She was his best friend.

She died from a criminal, much like he was.

She was tortured to death, because of their father.

Their father, Mr. Stanley, was the first one to be Shaughn's victim.

It was HIS fault that Susan had died. He would suffer.

But he wouldn't die. Shaughn had decided that quite easily. He wouldn't die.

He would suffer and live with the pain for the rest of his life.

That's how he started. That's when his life turned him into the 'pro-torturer' that he was.

Then he started branding people with the 'SS'. Then people would know if it was the work of Shaughn Stanley.

**A/N: I have so much planned for this story. Let me know what you think. ^.^**


	2. I Am Talking To You

Being in the office was hard. Being around Loker and Torres and Ben and Gillian. It was hard.

They all felt bad for him.

It was like when his mother killed himself.

Everyday he walked through school. He had sympathetic eyes all over him.

He would go to his office and just sit there.

He would go through the daily routine, but he never really paid attention to what he was doing. He was like an empty shell. Hollow with nothing to make him... him. He had no opinions, no feelings. He just sat there all day, catching killers when really... he wanted to kill Shaughn Stanley.

"How are you doing?"

He glanced up out of his zombie-like state and stared at her, "Fine." He said in a rough voice.

She dragged a chair over to him and took a seat, "Really, Cal. How are you doing?"

"Really, Gillian. I'm doing fine." He whispered. Gillian. Distancing. He probably didn't even know that he did it.

She turned her head curiously and said, "What do you think about?"

"Huh?" He looked confused, but not really interested.

"When you're just staring at the wall..." She said, "What are you thinking about? When you drift off into something else... what's going through your mind?"

He swallowed deeply and rubbed the back of his neck. He didn't want to talk about it. But that wasn't easily said. "The pain." He finally whispered truthfully.

It looked painful for him to just say it.

She laid a hand on his leg and he flinched. "Sorry." She whispered.

He dropped his head, ashamed that he couldn't even be touched by the love of his life without getting scared. He shivered slightly and looked at her. What should he say?

"Are you hungry?" She asked, "I was thinking we could go get some lunch."

He stared at her and then glanced at the clock on the wall. It was already 12:30? "Where?" He asked.

"I don't know. We could just go for a walk and see what looks nice." She said with a shrug. She had been trying to get him out of the office. Into the fresh air. Away from the walls that he felt were closing in on him.

"Alright." He said, standing up. He grabbed his coat and winced slightly as he pulled it over the bruises that still covered his body.

She took his hand, ignoring the small flinch he gave. He couldn't go forever without touching people. It didn't work like that.

.:.

_Cal watched as Shaughn pulled the long piece of metal from the fired up stove, "No!" Cal yelled in pain._

_He watched as the fiery 'SS' made it's way to his back. He tried to crawl away, but it hurt to move even a little bit. _

_There was a sizzling noise as the brander boiled the skin on Cal's back. He screamed out and writhed in pain as Shaughn towered over him, putting pressure on the brander._

_"Stop!" Cal begged. _

_His throat was raw with all the yelling and cursing and begging. He could barely talk now._

_He was starting to lose feeling in his back. The nerves were being burned right off._

_Cal squeezed his eyes shut, trying to endure the pain without being too loud._

_Another kick to his stomach and he rolled over with a grunt._

_Shaughn pulled a different brander out of the stove, it had a smaller 'SS'. He laid it on Cal's chest right above his heart and the pain took him over once more._

_The loud sizzling noise._

_He felt like he was in hell, literally. Like little balls of fire were constantly being thrown at him._

_He fell out of consciousness once more. The last thing he heard was a small laugh from Shaughn._

_.:._

Gillian looked over at him with worry.

He had pain all over his face, "What are you thinking about?" She asked.

He glanced towards her and crossed his arm over his chest, "Nothing."

"You can talk to me Cal." She reminded him.

"I am talking to you."

"You know what I'm talking about." She said, with a small warning tone in her voice.

He looked at her with his deep hazel eyes that seemed to have a less soul in them. They no longer shined like beautiful brass. They were emptier. Sadder.

He looked away and looked over the road where taxis and other cars were passing them.

The breeze caught his shirt and blew it against his body, also throwing his short hair around a little bit. He glanced at Gillian again and her hair was also flying in the wind. It was a beautiful day, but he didn't have the hear to realize that. Not yet.

He turned his attention to the ground where weeds were pushing through the weak sidewalk. Little pieces of poisonous grass that had torn through solid cement.

He tightened his jaw and put his hands into his pockets. Hit bit his lip. He looked back to Gillian.

They were standing on the sidewalk, neither of them moving. Just looked around. She was looking at him, though. She took a step towards him and wrapped her arms around his waist in a warm hug.

He stood there stiffly for a moment and then placed his hands on her back and embraced the hug. He laid his chin on her head and closed his eyes, "I'm sorry, love."

"You didn't do anything." She said, laying her head on his chest.

"I'm not being very easy to be around." He whispered.

"That's not true." She argued.

"You don't have to lie for me, darling."

He was still saying 'love' and 'darling' so Shaughn hadn't managed to ruin him completely.

"Cal." She said.

"What?" He looked down at her, but refused to let go.

"You are the strongest man I know."

He scoffed.

"Everyone else who was victimized by Shaughn Stanley went home and never came out. They didn't continue their life in a normal way. They just curled up into a ball and lived like that. Or they killed themself. You... on the other hand, are out here, going out to lunch with me, and you're still working and catching killers." She said strongly.

He didn't believe her. He could be doing much better then he was, but he was choosing not to.

"Burns are the hardest thing to heal." He suddenly blurted out.

"What?" She asked, pulling away from him slowly.

"When you get burned... it burns off all the nerves... so it doesn't seem that bad, until the nerves grow back. Then it hurts like shit." He said.

"Why are you talking about burn wounds?"

"Just letting you know what will be coming for me."

"Cal, stop." She said.

He looked down at her and then pulled his arms away, "Sorry." He then turned away and started walking back to the office. He crossed his arms over his chest again and tightened his jaw and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to push away the pain that formed when he walked.

"Cal, wait!" She called after him. She ran down the side walk and caught up with him, "Don't. Stop. Cal." She said, almost a little angry with him.

He continued to walk as if she wasn't pulling on him to stop.

He ignored her. He didn't even notice that she was there.

"Cal!" She yelled loudly.

He blinked a couple times and looked down at her, "What?" He asked madly.

"Stop this! You need to talk to people."

"I DO talk to people!" He argued.

"No you don't. When was the last time you talked to Emily?"

"Last night! We watched a movie, thank you very much." He said.

There is was. There was Cal. Sarcasm. Sweet, beautiful sarcasm... coming from Cal's mouth.

"Ok." She said, "Do you not want to get lunch?"

"Not really." He said.

"Then why did you agree to come with me?"

"I don't know." He shrugged truthfully.

"Then let's go back to the office." She said, taking his hand again.

He stumbled forward with her and ran a hand through his hair.

.:.

They ended up ordering Hong Kong Wok. He got a dinner bento box with sweet and sour chicken, and Gillian ended getting the same because she couldn't decide.

He sat at his desk, eating silently.

Today was the most he had talked since... it happened.

He was slowly coming back to life. The office was becoming happier as he talked more.

.:.

He wasn't done. He was far from done. There was more to be done.

Why had he done this to Dr. Lightman?

Well, it had partly been Lightman's decision.

Basically, the FBI had been pissing him off. They had been stopping his deals. He had been getting things sent to him, and they somehow managed to cut it all off.

He wasn't getting anything. No food. No water. He couldn't pay the bills. They had cut off everything that he needed to live in hiding.

So, he decided that he would ruin somebody connected to them. He would do something to get them excited and then they would get distracted. He was going to do one of the girls, because people tended to care about girls more.

Somehow Lightman figured this out and talked to him. He convinced him to take him instead.

Shaughn didn't care who he hurt, he just needed to torture SOMEBODY that was close to the FBI and Lightman had told him all of his connections and it was good enough for him.

He enjoyed doing this, because it was much easier when the victim was fighting back.

Lightman had let him do whatever.

Lightman couldn't fight back or Shaughn would go after that Gillian girl.

.:.

_"Don't hurt her." Cal warned._

_"What are you going to do? Tell the FBI I'm here? They can't get me. They never can. They never will. Good luck." Shaughn said with a scoff._

_Cal tightened his jaw and said, "Do me instead."_

_"Do you? You mean torture you instead?"_

_"Yes." Cal said stiffly._

_Shaughn's lips had curled into an ugly smile and he said, "Ok. But you can't fight back... or you're pretty little friend won't be so pretty anymore."_

_Cal tightened his jaw, debating if he really wanted to do this. He knew that if anyone had even seen Shaughn's face that it would mean they would be tortured._

_"Well. This might make your decision easier. Since you've seen my face... I have to torture or at least severely injure you so that you can't remember by the time you're out of the hospital."_

_"So you can either take her pain... or you can let yourself get hurt, but not as badly... and also let her get hurt. I say the latter, because then I get to see her naked." Shaughn popped his eyebrows with a creepy smile._

_Cal nodded, "Me."_

_"I thought you'd say that." Shaughn said. He put a hand into his pocket and pulled out a small item. It looked heavy and like it was metal. It collided with Cal's head and he felt like a sack of bricks to the floor._

**A/N: Thank you for reading...and sorry this chapter isn't very interesting. So basically... for Lent I am giving up computer. I'm Christian and Catholic and all that jazz, so I've gotta stick with it. SOOOO there won't be any updates until Easter. Sorry that it sucks for you, but it REALLY sucks for me, because I freaking love writing! But... I just thought I would let you know... I'm not leaving you hanging. There will be some totally long and awesome chapters when I come back. I think I'll squeeze one more in here tomorrow. And just so you know... I've got some epic stuff planned for this story, so don't fret!**


	3. For Her Sake

He didn't plan to tell Gillian about taking the torture for her sake.

She never needed to know.

It wasn't important.

She was safe. And so was he, now.

Everything could just work this way. Things would be easier if she didn't know and didn't feel guilty about it forever and ever.

He was okay now.

For the most part.

There was still pain. Physical and mental. He couldn't forget it. No matter how drunk he got, he could still remember the pain and remember Shaughn's face. He couldn't help it! It was tearing away at him. Plus, everytime he moved, the pain was right there. Undeniable. Unconditional. Sounds like God's love. Apparently that's how God's love worked. He wasn't sure, but that's what he'd heard. Apparently He would never stop loving you. Apparently He didn't care what you did. He was there for you.

Yeah, that matches the pain. No matter what Cal did... it was still there for him. It never stopped.

He'd taken pain medications given to him by doctors, but they didn't do jack. They didn't even numb the excruciating pain!

Morphine helped, on the other hand. But it didn't do good things to his mind. He was already a little messed up up there... this didn't help.

_He'd stared at Gillian, dizzy out of his mind, "Hoowww, youuurrr...?" He couldn't even form words well._

_He couldn't talk to her at all._

_He was tired and was confused and didn't exactly know what was going on. Where was he? "Whereee?"_

_"You're at the hospital Cal." She had whispered, placing her hand on his shoulder._

_He'd grabbed it and pulled it up to his mouth. He kissed the back of it and then yelled out, "Oh God!"_

_"What?" She'd asked quickly._

_"God... stop!" He'd yelled out._

_He thought he saw things that weren't really there. Hallucinations. Hallucinations of Shaughn. He threw his arms away, trying to pushing the bastard away from him, but it didn't work. he just wouldn't go away!_

_"Go away!" Cal yelled._

_"Cal!" She yelled worriedly. She laid a hand on his forhead. He was burning up._

_They weren't even hallucinations. Morphine didn't do that. It just numbed things. He seriously thought that Shaughn was there. He was dreaming. Or nightmaring. _

_A high fever of 104. Constant. Dangerous. Not healthy. _

_He'd stayed in the hospital for three weeks, until the fever finally died down. But even then he was still sick. Almost always at 100 or a little higher. If it ever made it to 103 then he would have to go back to the hospital. Although, there was nothing they could do. _

_He was sick. He had been tortured for Pete's sake! of course he was sick. He could barely walk._

_He was on fire. He was at 104, but was so cold. So cold that he shivered uncontrollably and asked for blankets and blankets on end._

He was back in his office, after they had lunch. He'd gone to the cube for a while and talked to a man. He'd done good.

He was a little cocky. That was healthy for Cal. He had been sarcastic and spiteful. That made Gillian happy. He was becoming himself again.

Then, on his way back to his office, he'd gotten pissed at Loker for no apparent reason. Which - luckily - Loker had taken as a sign of healing and just shrugged it off.

But now - after a month of being better - he wasn't feeling to hot again.

He was feeling feverish, like he had in the hospital.

He hadn't gotten severely sick since his last visit to the hospital. About two weeks after leaving he'd still had the lingering sickness, but then it had gone away.

Gillian knocked and he grunted, allowing her to enter.

"Hey." She said with a smile that disappeared when she saw his face, "How are you feeling?"

"Like I'm sick." He said in a hoarse voice.

She walked into his bathroom and grabbed a thermometer, "Here." She pushed it into his mouth, despite his protesting.

He sat there lazily, running hit tongue over the metal end of the thermometer.

It beeped and she pulled it out, "102. Oh my gosh. Lay down." She ordered, pointing to the couch.

He obeyed and stood up. She pushed on his shoulder a little bit and he stumbled towards the welcoming couch that hadn't changed, even though life around it did.

He fell onto it and buried his face in the pillow. he was so tired. This couch felt so... familiar and right.

He remembered all the late nights that he crashed on this couch rather then going home to sleep with Zoe.

He remembered all the late nights that Gillian told him would catch up with him eventually.

He remembered all the late nights that she had stayed up with him, working on a hard case or watching videos.

He moaned slightly and rolled over, so he was looking up at the roof.

She was out of sight. He wasn't sure where she had gone, but she'd be coming back.

She returned a couple seconds later with a cold rag to meet his forhead.

He flinched a little when she laid it on his head, but then it became soothing.

.:.

A doctor was there half an hour later.

Although it didn't seem like that big of a deal, the doctor said to call him if anything spiked up like that.

So she did, and now Dr. Wahl was towering over a sick Cal.

He pulled Cal's shirt up to examine the burn on his chest and Gillian almost gasped when she saw it.

She felt bad for being in there, invading Cal's privacy in a way.

"Well... that's the problem." Dr. Wahl thought aloud.

"What's the problem?" She stared at the darkish purple 'SS' on his chest. It looked painful. She turned away and crossed her arms over her chest.

"The burn is healing." Dr. Wahl - William - stood up and crossed his arms over his chest, "There's really nothing that can be done. A burn is a painful thing to overcome... and it'll bring fevers with it." He said.

"We can't do anything?" She turned back to Will.

"Well... I can get you some burn cream that will ease the pain a little bit." He said with a shrug. "We need to flip him over, though. I need to see his back."

She nodded and assisted Will with turning Cal's moaning body over.

William pulled up Cal's shirt and ran his fingers over the rough skin on Cal's back, "Yeah."

"How long will it last?"

"A week? Maybe two?" William suggested, "Good luck. If the pain becomes too much - which it shouldn't - give me a call. And if it goes over 103."

"Yep." She said with a heavy sigh. Poor Cal.

**A/N: O. M. P. (Oh my pickles) Did I really squeeze in another chapter? YUP! Thanks for reading and reviewing!**


	4. His Drugged Self

When Dr. Wahl had suggested the burn cream... she had thought nothing of it.

Cal would need it. It was as simple as that. He'd gone through enough pain and she wasn't planning on keeping him going through it while his burns healed.

Why had he told her about the burns healing earlier today? Was the pain already coming and he was just letting her know in a weird way? Or he knew it was coming and just wanted her to know.

Anyway, she didn't want to learn how to apply it, because she didn't want to be the applier of the cream.

She had already somehow invaded Cal's privacy by being in the room when William was looking at the burns. Even though Cal would never know, she still felt guilty.

She thought that Emily could do it.

Maybe even Zoe.

Or a doctor! Wasn't that a doctors job? To apply cream and all that shit?

She didn't want to do it.

She didn't want to run her fingers over the scars on Cal's back and chest.

She didn't want to see the scars again.

She didn't want to feel the burns.

She knew that Cal didn't want her to see them.

And yet, here she was, in his house, rubbing the white cream over Cal's torn up back.

At the moment, he was almost high on pain medications.

It had been very painful for him. He couldn't take it. He refused to move until the pain had at least numbed a little bit.

So she handed him the bottle and he took five when he was supposed to take two.

That had been dangerous, and she thought maybe she should make him spit it out, but oh who cares? He would be fine.

So now... he was all loopy and smiley and flirty, and it was actually kind of a relief after the past two months of him barely saying a word.

She squirted cream into her hands and then began running her hands over the rough skin on his back.

She didn't like it at all. She didn't like being so close to his pain.

"Damn girl. That hurts. Calm down." He said, moving awkwardly to get away from her hands.

"Cal. Stop." She ordered, "It will help."

He stopped for a moment and moaned in pain as she ran her hands over his back.

She stood back and stared at his greasy looking back. Like sunscreen. Let it dry. "Stay like that." She said, flopping down beside him on the couch.

"It's uncomfortable." He complained.

"I don't care." She said.

"Rawr." He said, glancing over to her with wide eyes.

"Sorry." She sighed. "I'm just tired."

"Of me?"

"No, no, no." She said, shaking her head quickly, "Just... tired." She shrugged like she didn't know what else to say.

She laid a hand on his back and said, "Alright. It's dry. Sit down."

She squirted more onto her hands and laid them on his chest, massaging the rough skin there as well.

"Ow." He said blankly.

She squinted at him and said, "I'm sorry, but it'll make the pain go away."

"The pain is away."

"Yeah because you took five damn pills!" She said, smiling slightly at his carelessness. He was definitely still Cal, even if a little part of him was missing at the moment. A little part of his soul. The part that held hope. Her smile disappeared at that though and she patted the scar lightly.

"Ow!" He yelped.

"Sorry!" She said, yanking her hands away and holding them up in a defensive motion.

He frowned at her and awkwardly sat forward on the couch.

"What are you doing?"

"Not sitting back." He said in a pained voice.

"Why not?"

"My back hurts, dummy." He said, rolling his eyes.

"Drugs have an interesting effect on you. I can't wait till Emily gets home."

"Huh?" He asked.

"You're not so bad when you're all drugged up." She said with a nod.

"I'm sexy?"

"Where would you get that?" She asked, surprised by the question.

"I'm sexy." He confirmed.

"No, you're..." She searched for the right word.

"Sexy?"

She shook her head.

"Irresistible?"

Another shake.

"Super hot?"

"No..." She said.

"Amazing?"

She looked around.

"FUCKING amazing?"

"Shut up." She said.

"Feisty?" He suggested.

"Where would you get that?"

"I'm feisty in bed." He said with a wide smile.

"I didn't need to know that."

"Nope, but you _wanted _to." He said with a shrug.

"You're going to forget all of this when the drugs wear off." She said.

"Maybe." He said, "What am I?"

"Strange. Weird. A little annoying. Messed up. Unique." She listed, smiling at him.

"Well... you just ruined my self-confidence."

.:.

He was back to normal - if you could call it normal - about three hours later.

She had enjoyed talking to his drugged self, because he was happy and fun and nice and he wasn't depressed and remembered every detail of Shaughn's work.

That made her happy.

But it was over now, and she wouldn't let him overdose - even just a little bit - again.

He was sleeping at the moment. Upstairs silently.

She was down in the kitchen, making tea for when he woke up.

She was also reading a book that she wasn't interested in the least bit.

She dropped the book and walked into the living room. She looked around at the clean room.

Emily had kept it together while he father could barely hold himself up.

She couldn't keep him together... so she cleaned the house, until she was just scrubbing nothing off of things.

Gillian wished she could be more assistance with Emily.

She wished that Emily didn't have to handle this herself.

Technically... she didn't have to.

Because - although he pushing protests - Gillian had become the official burn cream applier, or whatever you would call it. And she had to apply it every three hours for at least a week.

That meant seeing Cal half naked every three hours as she rubbed her hands all over his body.

She didn't like that at all.

That was an EPIC crossing of the line.

COuldn't William do it?

Nope, apparently he had other stuff to do.

She could handle this.

Cal wouldn't even remember.

Yes he would. Who was she kidding? He had been almost high the first time she put it on, so he didn't remember it at all. BUt for the next ones... the ones where he was totally normal and depressed and not happy and in pain... he would remember and he wouldn't let her forget it.

She had to wake him up now. It'd been three hours.

But why? If he was sleeping just fine, then what was the point in waking him up? It was to stop the pain, but he wasn't in pain if he was sleeping... she would wait for him to wake up.

.:.

It was another three hours before she head a loud yell and thrashing around up in his room.

Truthfully, she had never been in his room.

She'd really only been in the living room and in the kitchen and all those places on the bottom floor.

But she rushed upstairs and found his room quite easily.

She rushed in and stopped for a second, inhaling the strong scent of... Cal.

She looked around. His bed was king sized, big enough for her to get in and cuddle up close to him and fit a few other people. It was huge! _He must be a mover,_ she thought.

The sheets were a light brown and looked very soft, and a little cushiony. The comforter was big and puffy. He had the blankets tangled around his thinning body.

The walls were beige, like most of the walls in their house.

The carpet was softer then anywhere else in the house. It felt good and warm beneath her toes.

He had a wooden dresser that was piled with pictures on the front. Mostly of Emily, but to her surprise there were a couple of her. Some of just her and some of them together.

They were a picture family, which she had never really though of.

They had pictures all over the house. Mostly family pictures. Some of Gillian, which warmed her heart.

She had no clue that she was such a big part of this family.

She looked back to Cal on the bed.

He had calmed down, no more yelling. Just a bad dream. Or bad memories.

He was strong. He was sleeping again.

She stared at how peaceful he was when he sleeped.

He was like... a little kid stuck in a grown man's body.

He couldn't stop moving. He was annoying. He liked to smile, if you caught him on the right day. He was a total child.

But now he was sleeping, and all his craziness calmed down, and he was a normal... sleeping child.

She smiled, but then it disappeared at the look of pain on his face.

He moaned slightly and rolled over, "Damnit!" He yelled out when his shirt rubbed over his back.

He wasn't facing Gillian when he shot up. His back was to her and he was facing the wall. He yanked his shirt over is head, flinching as it rubbed up against his back.

She stared at the purple "SS' on his back. The gross scar.

She felt so bad for him. "Cal?" She whispered.

He jumped and flipped around, falling on the bed. He grunted and stared at her, "Get out!" He yelled pointing to the door. He yanked a blanket over his bare chest and shook his head.

She stood downstairs for at least twenty minutes while he got everything figured out upstairs.

How to wear clothes without it hurting.

How to walk down the stairs carefully.

How to not hit his wounds.

The scars were the only thing. They were the most painful at the moment, but he was covered in harsh bruises and sprained bones and ... pain.

"What the bloody hell were you doing in my room?" He asked in a voice that seemed to have taken everything to accomplish.

"I was checking on you because you were yelling." She said with a shrug. She was leaning against the counter, her hands holding her up as she tried to appear strong in front of this man. You couldn't feel stronger then him... ever. Especially not now. Not with what he had gone through.

He squinted at her and said, "Why are you even here?"

"To give you this." She held up the bottle of cream.

"No you're not." He said.

"I already did once."

"I don't remember."

"Because you took five pain pills rather then two. It has that affect on you." She said smoothly.

"Well... I don't want you too."

"Too bad. It's to ease the pain and make the healing go right." She said.

"Well... no." He said, shaking his head once more.

"I'm not giving you a choice. You have too." She said. THis would never work. He wouldn't let her apply it, "How are you feeling?" She asked, changing the subject.

"Okay right now." He said, allowing her to change things for now.

"Good. Does it hurt?"

"Damn straight." He said.

"You're becoming yourself again."

"At least I'm making other people happy." He grunted, a painful expression on his face.

"If you don't stop looking so pained, then that expression will stay on your face forever."

"I have a feeling that I'll be so pained forever... so it doesn't really matter." He said stiffly.

She sighed heavily and said, "Don't talk like that."

"Like what?" He asked, looking back at her.

"Like you won't ever get better! Because you will." She said calmly.

"It's funny how you think that." He said, "But I won't. Gillian that scarred me and it will never go away! Every fucking time I close my eyes I see his face!" He yelled at her.

She flinched slightly and said, "Cal. Stop. Calm down."

"You're telling ME to calm down? Seriously?"

"Cal!" She hissed, "Stop it!"

He stared at her and said, "Why the hell are you here again?"

"Because you need THIS stuff on your back and chest so it doesn't hurt!" She said, becoming annoyed with his ungrateful attitude, "Stop acting so MEAN! I'm here to help you!"

He shook his head and said, "I don't want you doing it. I don't want YOU touching all of my scars." He said, pointing at her.

"And you think that I want to touch them? It's to ease your pain! It's to make things a little easier! I thought maybe I could be a little help with all of this, because I seem to be the only one you will talk to! And now that I want to help you... you're being a fucking bastard." Holy crap. Did she just say that? She called him a bastard, yes. But that's not what surprised her. She said 'fucking' and that wasn't her. She swore, yes. Everybody did at one time. But she didn't go that far.

"I am?" He hissed, "Oh please!" He yelled.

She opened her mouth to throw another insult but he threw up his hand and brought his finger to his mouth, "Be quiet." He said.

She rolled her eyes and leaned against the counter, listening closely for whatever he was hearing.

There was a small crash upstairs and Cal went running.

Gillian was close behind, pretending she didn't hear the grunts of pain Cal made with every stair he jumped.

He ran into his rom and she stood in the hallway, not wanting to go back in there because of his reaction the first time. Cal threw his head out the window and cursed, "Somebody was in here."

"What are you talking about?" She asked from the hallway.

He turned and looked at her.

His eyes were looking a little more lively, like he was getting off on the energy in the room.

He was excited.

Oh, and that made her excited.

"Somebody was in here," He said as he panted for air, "I saw them running."

He walked over to his dresser and started tearing through it. He threw clothes all over the ground and Gillian watched closely.

She smiled at a t-shirt that had Emily's little handprints in paint and then an 'I love daddy' under it in big colorful letters. She wondered if he ever wore it.

A t-shirt that said 'I 3 New York'. She had always wanted a shirt like that. She'd never seen him wear that either.

She'd never really seen him wear a t-shirt. Period.

He moved over to his closet and started pulling things out.

He suddenly clean room became a huge mess in just a manner of seconds.

"Oh shit." Cal stood up with empty hands.

"What'd they take?"

"The file I had on Shaughn. Not as bad as some other things that could have been taken." He walked over to his desk again. "And a business card." He winced and she walked into the room.

"Well... it's probably someone who works for Shaughn."

"Yeah," He gasped.

"I seriously think you should let me do that cream."

"Why?"

"Because it's to make the pain less... it helps." She assured him.

.:.

Soon they were sitting on his bed and she was once again running her hands over his raw back.

He moaned in pain and she felt bad for being the one that was inflicting it on him.

Poor Cal. She didn't like being the cause of his pain.

Once it all dried, she kissed the top of his back lightly and whispered, "You're a trooper." Against the rough skin.

He smiled and turned around so she could do his chest, "I know I am. I'm so tough."

"You are. You've overcome alot... and I'm proud of you."

"Aww..." He said with a smile.

She smiled back and rubbed her hands over his heart.

He shivered slightly and took her hand, "Cal stop." She said.

He brought her hand to his mouth and kissed the back of it, "Thank you darling."

She shook her head, "It's nothing."

"You're really too good to me."

"It's what you deserve."

He laughed out loud and pulled her into his chest although it hurt like shit, "You're my best friend."

"Yep." She hugged him lightly, careful to not touch the skin.

**A/N: AWWWW... So no more posts until Easter. Go to the competition for TV shows and vote for Lie to Me over and over again so it can be renewed. I'm voting as much as I can tonight... but once I go to bed... I'm screwed and it's up to you! Thanks for reading... can't wait to come back. AAANNNNDDD I updated Baby Brother... just so you know!**


	5. I Was Whipped

Gillian had headed downstairs after making sure that Cal was safely asleep. She sat on the couch and read a book that wasn't capable of getting her attention, because she was too worried about Cal and if he would ever be the same. He was traumatized. He hadn't shown very much 'normal Cal' recently, and it was very worrying.

He had been doing well with talking. Whenever the subject came up about what Shaughn did, though, he immediately shut down and refused to say a word.

He had been sleeping soundly for a couple hours. Sometimes his breathing got faster and he seemed a little restless, but he hadn't woken up for a while.

Gillian put away the book she was into and pulled out a medical book that Dr. Wahl had suggested looking at. She read over it and different ways to treat Cal's wounds. While she put on the burn cream she had been noticing lines all over his back that seemed to be scars that were forming. She thought she might get an answer in her book. Cal hadn't talked about it at all, so she hadn't gotten the chance to find out possible wounds.

She heard a yelled and his bed shake. She didn't want to mess with him though. He seemed angry when she went upstairs to see if he was okay. He could handle himself.

.:.

He woke up with a jolt and a strong memory that explained a lot. The dream hadn't been pretty.

_It had started off with sharp, quick pain that stung afterwards. Then a loud crack! sound. Then more pain and the sound again. Shaughn's laughing of course. There was always Shaughn's laughing._

_Then there was blood on the flood. It sprayed around when he felt the pain and heard the crack! Then he felt a foot on his side, rolling him over. Then he saw the leather of the whip._

He was panting now, running his hands over the lines on his back. That is what had scarred him so horribly. Whips. He had been whipped numerous times. He had been remembering the burning pain of a whip making contact with his back.

It was refreshing to know what was causing his confusion, but it also made things worse. Now he could remember the pain easier. He could remember what it looked like - watching the whip come down on him.

He looked around the room, searching for a shirt to put on, but ended up decided against it. It wasn't like Gillian hadn't seen him shirtless before.

He quietly walked downstairs, trying not to catch Gillian's attention, but that didn't exactly go well.

"Cal. You're awake?" she asked, following him into the kitchen.

He looked at her and nodded. "Yeah."

She smiled at him and asked, "How are you feeling?"

"Fine."

"You really shouldn't lie to me," she whispered.

"Why do you always assume that I'm lying to you?" he asked defensively. "Maybe I just don't want to talk about it and the only way for that is to pretend that I'm doing just fine, because if I actually tell you how I'm doing, you will try to get me to talk about it and I don't want to!" he yelled.

She flinched slightly at his outburst and sighed. "Alright. You don't have to."

"Thank you." He shook his head and opened the fridge. As he grabbed a beer, he asked, "When was the last time you slept?"

"Don't worry about me."

"I need to worry about someone other than myself," he hissed, becoming overthrown with emotions that he didn't seem to be able to control.

"It's been a while," she whispered, looking down at her feet.

"What's your problem?" He stared at her without an ounce of worry. He didn't sound like he cared. But he did. He was just having trouble showing it.

"I'm worried about you Cal, but you won't let me be!"

"Why are you yelling at me?" he asked innocently.

"Because you're pissing me off! First I try to comfort you and that doesn't work. So then I shut up and you ask what my problem is. Then I tell you and you get mad at me!" She tightened her jaw and crossed her arms over her chest, becoming tense.

He stared at her and cracked open the beer.

"You shouldn't be drinking that," she whispered.

"Don't tell me what to do." He took a swig and swallowed loudly.

"You need to open up to people." She stared at him with large eyes that had no intention of hurting him.

"Maybe you need to understand that not everybody wants to open up to you, Gillian! The world doesn't revolve around you!" he yelled at her.

She slapped him and immediately regretted it. Why the hell would she hit him? He was having problems. She had no right getting mad at him. She felt horrible.

"Get out of my house." He pointed towards the door.

"You shouldn't be alone," she cried, a tear rolling down her cheek.

"Why the bloody hell are you crying? What have _you _gone through? Watching your partner break apart? Well that must be hard. Try being the partner!" he yelled in pain. "Gillian, this has nothing to do with you! Nothing! I am the one that got fucking tortured! You are just a bystander that knows nothing! This has just gotten five times harder because I remember what happened to me now! I know! You know what happened?" he asked, calming down enough to have a scary smile on.

"Cal," she whispered, shaking her head.

"I was whipped Gillian. I had the hell whipped out of me! A leather strap coming in contact with my back over and fucking over again!"

"Cal, I didn't know. I'm... I'm not trying to be... whatever it is that I'm being. I'm sorry Cal."

He tightened his jaw and stared at her.

"You know something?" she asked.

"What?" He crossed his arms over his bare chest, no longer feeling safe around her. He felt vulnerable without a shirt on and she noticed it.

"Cal. I don't want to hurt you. I am here to help you. But what I just noticed... is that you standing here yelling at me... that's the most you have talking - or yelled - since it happened. You are coming out of your... your shell." She attempted a smile, but he wasn't buying it.

"I'm going to work tomorrow." He looked like he ignored her, but they both knew that he had taken that seriously. She was right. He had just had a full conversation with her.

"I don't think you should."

"I don't think you should be so controlling," he snapped.

She nodded and looked at the ground. "Alright. Do you want me to stay tonight?"

"No." He let his jaw loose and whispered, "Thank you."

She smiled and nodded. "I'll just get my stuff."

.:.

"I heard that her and Lightman had a big fight last night," Loker said in a gossipy tone. He smiled and Ria and rocked in his chair.

"How could you know that?"

"Foster and Ben were talking about it in the front hallway. Anyone who walked by could have heard."

"No they weren't," Torres denied.

"Yeah, you're right. They were talking in her office. I just happened to overhear it, but I also overheard that Lightman is coming in today. She advised him not to, but he's pissed with her and is going to do whatever she tells him not to do."

"Why is he pissed with her?" Ria asked curiously.

"I dunno." Loker shrugged and spun towards the door where Gillian had appeared. "Hey," he said with a smile.

"Listen," Gillian started. "I need you two to be silent. Don't talk to Lightman unless he talks to you. Do whatever he needs. Don't be distracting, don't be rude. Loker..." He looked up at her. "Just don't be yourself. It pisses Cal off and he should not have to deal with that today."

"Hurtful..." Eli said with a smile. "Whatever. I just won't talk to him."

Gillian nodded and said, "I'm sorry that I'm being mean but... he's just had a hard couple months and he deserves better."

"I totally understand." Ria said with a nod. "When is he coming?"

"Soon. I think. I don't know." Gillian sighed and looked at the ground.

"That fight really shook you up a little bit, didn't it?" Eli asked.

Gillian frowned and said, "What fight?"

"The fight between you and Lightman. Everyone knows about it."

"Stop right there Loker. You aren't my therapist and I don't need you to talk to me."

"Why are you acting so mean, Dr. Foster?" he asked, standing up and walking towards her.

She sighed inwardly and said, "I don't want to talk."

He nodded and said, "Well I can see that, but you know as well as I do that it won't stop me."

"I'm serious Eli. Cut it out."

"I'll just talk to him about it." Eli shrugged and smiled.

Gillian glanced at Ria and stared with neediness.

"Loker, you're being a jerk." Torres said.

Eli sat down immediately and glared at Gillian. "Don't think that I won't."

"When did you become such a bastard?" Gillian asked, surprising both Eli and Ria.

"Excuse me?"

"What's going on in here?" Ben asked, walking in.

Everyone turned and looked at him.

"Cal will be here in five minutes. Straighten up. All of you." He then turned around and walked out.

**A/N: Kind of a slow chapter, but something epic will happen in the next. It feels great to be back!**


	6. Happy Two Month

Cal sat in his office, staring at the wall and thinking. Thinking about why Shaughn would take the file. What was Shaughn planning?

He thought he heard somebody come into his office, but he was too far away to pull himself back now. He was lost in his mind. He didn't want to talk to anybody. He was mad and in pain and he hadn't had the cream applied in at least 12 hours. He was agitated and tired.

He hadn't slept at all last night. He hadn't been able to. Bad dreams and pain.

"Cal."

He didn't listen. He wasn't even sure who it was, but he didn't care. He didn't want to talk right now and didn't want to hear whatever they had to say.

He rubbed his face with his hands, wincing as he moved.

"Cal." The voice said again, trying to get his attention.

He shook his head and refused to reply. He did not want to talk.

He or she touched his shoulder and Cal turned around and punched the person that was standing beside him.

They grunted and fell to the floor.

Cal stood up quickly, pushing the chair back and causing it to fall to the ground with a crash. He looked at the ground, but couldn't seem to see anything. He was getting overheated. Things were blacking out. He heard the person - it sounded like a boy - moaning and scrambling to get up. Cal fell back against his desk and grabbed his face with his hands. He moaned and squeezed his eyes shut.

.:.

He woke up to a constant, but soft 'Cal, Cal, Cal' and someone brushing his hair from his face. It was as long as it had been almost two years ago. He hadn't cut it in a long time.

He opened his eyes and stared at Gillian, who was smiling at him. He didn't return the smile, but he didn't give her an ugly look. He sat up and grabbed his head when the pain hit.

"What happened?" Cal asked, frowning at the headache.

"You passed out." She fidgeted with her hands and bit her lip.

"Who did I punch?"

"Eli." She expected him to smile, but he showed no emotion, other than maybe disgust in himself.

"Why was he calling me 'Cal' rather than 'Dr. Lightman'?" Cal asked.

"I don't know. Lay back down. You're head must be hurting."

"Why would you assume that?"

"You have a pained look stuck on your face and you're holding your head."

"I'm fine."

She tightened her jaw and said, "Alright. Whatever."

Cal stood up and swayed for a moment. She stood up as well and grabbed his arm, but pulled away when he flinched. "I'm sorry. It's... it's hard to not touch you... but then I just feel so bad because I hurt you when I touch you... I'm sorry."

He looked at her for a moment and then slipped away from her. He rubbed his eyes and walked to his desk. He sat down and held his face in his hands. "I can't do this," he whispered, not even sure if Gillian heard him.

She still stood by the couch, not wanting to intrude. "Can't do what?" she asked lightly.

"This! I can't take it anymore!" He stood up and yelled, "I'm broken Gillian! I'm not the same. Why couldn't he have just killed me?"

"Don't talk like that." She kept her place on the other side of the office.

He walked over to her and stood right in front of her, breathing on her face.

Her breath was warm. He hadn't openly gotten this close.

He didn't say anything. He just stood there and stared into her green eyes.

His jaw was tight and he looked like he might be on the verge of tears.

He felt like he was on the edge of tears.

It's not like he hadn't cried since it happened. He had. But in the privacy of his room. Where no body would see him. Truth be told... he was ashamed with himself for crying. He was a man. He was supposed to be tough and brave and strong, but he had let himself break into tears. He'd squeezed his eyes shut and just cried. He let the tears come and he was still pissed with himself for letting that happen.

He took her by surprised when he laid his forhead on her shoulder and hung his hands on his neck. "Gillian," he whispered.

She laid her hands on his shoulders, where she knew there were no scars or bruises. "Yes?" she asked, pretending to not hear the quiver in his voice.

He shook his head and took a long shaky breath.

Gillian bit her lip and tightened her grip on the fabric over his shoulders. "Can I see your burns?" she asked, noticing that he was at a loss for words and needed something to say.

He stood up and swallowed loudly.

His face was red. The skin around his eyes was puffy. She'd be lying if she said she didn't think that he had been crying.

He dropped his head and stared at the floor. "Yeah," he whispered roughly.

"Do you want the cream? Has anyone else put it on?" He shook his head and winced as he held his hands in the air.

She grabbed the bottom of his shirt and slowly pulled it over his head. To her dismay, the burns were looking worse and more painful.

"Is it that bad?" he asked with a worried look.

"Um... no."

"Don't lie." He stared at her. "It is. It looks creepy and it makes you want to puke."

"_No._ It just looks painful." She shrugged and walked into the bathroom.

"It's been in here the whole time?"

"You could have asked."

He nodded and sat down on the couch.

.:.

It was a quiet process. The only thing that could be heard was her soft breathing and his small grunts when she his a rough spot.

Gillian would sometimes whisper 'sorry' or 'Cal, it was an accident', but he always shook his head and tightened his grip on the side of the couch.

She helped him put his shirt back on and noticed that it was big on him. He had lost weight.

"Have you been eating?" she asked suspiciously.

"Yes," he lied.

"Why would you lie about that?"

"I'm just not hungry," he whispered.

"Cal, you need to eat."

"You need to stop mothering me."

She dropped her head and itched her head. "I'm sorry. Okay. It's just a suggestion."

"Sorry."

"For what."

"Gillian... stop pretending like I'm... like I'm not a pain to have around and that I'm don't poison the mood whenever I'm around. I'm a fucking jerk whenever anyone talks to me and you are mad with how I'm acting."

"That's not true Cal."

"Yes it is! Admit it! Stop trying to spare me! Do you really think that it will help me?"

"Cal. We don't need to fight again. I get what you're feeling."

He laughed. But it wasn't a happy laugh, it was an ironic laugh that almost scared her.

"Don't even _try _to say that you know what I'm feeling!"

"I'm just trying to help you, Cal."

"I can't be helped!" he yelled. "Have you really not figured that out yet? I'm an empty shell that should just be thrown back into the water. You should be done with me. Stop trying to change me! I can't be fixed!"

"Cal!" she took a step towards him.

"This is why I made you leave last night. You keep trying to empathize with me, but it's not possible when you have no way to relate to what I'm going through! Every fucking time I close my eyes I see that bastard! When I try to sleep I feel the pain. Whenever I'm touched I flinch because I think that he's back to half way finish me off. I can't even be touched without getting terrified! I'm a coward!"

"Stop that!" she yelled.

"Get out." He pointed to the door.

"Why do you keep pushing us away?"

"Us? I think you mean YOU! You want to be a part of this. You want to watch me get better, but it isn't going to happen... so just leave! Go! Get out! I don't want to talk to you. I don't want to see you!"

"Do you think that I want to see you, Cal? I can never talk to you normally because you flip out if I try to comfort you! Or you start yelling at me, like you are right now! I will leave! Don't come crawling back to me when you're in pain and you just can't take it or you're scared!"

"This is hard for me! Of all people, I thought that maybe _you _would understand!

"It's been two months! You should be over this crap by now! It's not happening anymore! This shouldn't have an affect on you! What's wrong with you?"

He stared at her, feeling pain and rage swell up in him. Didn't she understand? How could she do this?

"Figure this out Cal and then come talk to me." She stormed out the door, ignoring the staring eyes of Eli and Ria. They both fell back and watched her tear off towards her office.

Cal stood in the middle of his office, staring at the space where Gillian had been standing.

He pulled himself back together and looked around the office. He fixed the pillows on the couch and grabbed his jacket.

He looked at Eli and Ria and said, "I'm leaving. Going home. Don't tell her where I am."

He walked past them and stopped in the front hallway. "No... no... no..."

Ben walked up behind him and almost puked.

"God... no..." Cal shook his head and fell back against Ben. "Oh God... please no."

After hearing Cal, Ria and Eli walked up. Loker made a puking nose and sheilded his eyes, "Whoa! That's a little too much."

"Cal. It's okay." Ben kneeled down and picked up a note.

"Happy Two Month!" it read.

Cal was hyperventilating and looking around the hallway with terror in his eyes. Ben said, "He's in shock. Get him away from here."

"Where?" Loker asked.

Ben stared at the floor and looked away quickly. "I don't know. Gillian?"

"They're fighting... she's pissed at him."

"I don't care!" Ben yelled madly. "Bring him to Gillian."

**A/N: EPIC. Next chapter you will find outwhat Cal found and you will se the GINORMOUS effect it has... thanks for reading and reviewing!**


	7. Theresa Cunningham

"Perfect! Fucking... perfect." Shaughn smiled and paused the TV.

"How the hell did we get cameras in there?"

"We hacked into their system," Shaughn said simply.

David - Shaughn's little helper - nodded and said, "He's totally terrified. This really got to him. But you already did get to him a little... ya know? Isn't that enough."

"Listen David. The FBI are going to crunch down on us. They will cut off whatever they can and they will be looking even harder. So... what we do is we try to distract them even more. We harass Lightman. We don't give him a break. Then they are busy protecting the coward and we can cut off any connections they have to us. Then we are free... Lightman's life is ruined. It's a win-win."

David looked at the ground. He couldn't openly say how guilty he felt. Shaughn would be pissed. He would hurt him. He couldn't have that. Maybe if he just turned Shaughn in...? No. Shaughn would find him and torture him.

.:.

Cal was breathing hard and his eyes were darting around the front hallway. "Where the hell are you Shaughn?" He yelled at the various cameras. "Leave me the fuck alone!"

He was freaking out. He was losing it.

Everyone could tell. Loker was staring at him, Ria beside him - mirroring his scared expression.

Ben was checking the pulse of the body on the floor. He dropped his head and sighed. "She's gone." He then searched the pockets and pulled out a card. "Theresa Cunningham. Cal." Ben looked up at Lightman, but Cal wasn't paying attention. He was spinning around looking at the cameras and yelling crazy things.

"Stay away from me!" He cried out.

Ben put the card into his pocket, deciding that Cal didn't need to see it quite yet.

"Bring him to Gillian," Ben hissed at Eli.

"She's pissed at him and he feels the same way!" Loker yelled, trying to get it through Ben's head.

"I don't care. Bring him to her right now."

Loker finally obeyed and grabbed Cal's arm.

Cal didn't seem to notice. He was shaky and scared and his eyes were wide.

As Eli pulled him along, Gillian came out of her office and stared at the terrified Cal. She took his hand and pulled him towards his office. "Thank you, Eli."

Loker nodded and rubbed the back of his neck, "Can I do anything?"

"No, thanks. I got it. Where's Ben? Tell him to come as soon as possible."

Eli ran back to where the body was and stared down at it.

It was bloody, and blood was spread out all over the floor. There were long strips of whip marks in her shirt. She had been whipped. There was the branded 'SS' on her chest, blood seeping through her shirt to make the menacing letters.

Gillian set Cal down on the couch and he rocked back in forth hiding his face in his hands. He was mumbling something.

"No. Why? Why is this happening? Keep him away. Stop this. It hurts. I'm scared. Where is he? Did you see him? He is coming after me."

Gillian tried her best to optimistically answer his question, but they continued to come and she had no idea what happened.

He suddenly sat up and grabbed her shoulders.

She stared at him with wide eyes. "Cal?"

"He's coming for me, Gill!"

"It's okay."

"It's not okay! You don't know what it was like! He's coming back. That... that was a sign. She was dead... Gillian... Foster... that girl was dead! I'm so screwed." He shook his head and tried to take a deep breath.

.:.

Ben stared at the body and looked at Loker. "She's definitely dead."

Eli looked like he might puke. "Should I call the cops?"

Ben nodded and said, "How is Lightman?"

"He's going crazy. I don't think he even knows where he is. He was just mumbling random shit... I don't even know. His eyes are wide and scared and... I've never seen him like this."

"Ria." She looked at Ben. "Go help Gillian. Even if she says no. Just stay in there."

She nodded and ran towards Cal's office.

.:.

Cal was rocking himself on the couch, his knees pulled to his chest. He looked like a terrified little girl. But he didn't care. He was terrified.

Ben looked at Gillian with a look of dismay.

"What is it?" She asked. "Apart from the obvious."

"God. I'm gonna die. Please... please don't let this happen."

They all looked at Cal, and then looked around solemnly. "Look at this."

Gillian took the ID card from Theresa. In dark red letters it said 'It's not over. The pain isn't done. I'm gonna get you, Cal Lightman.'

"Oh my gosh." She looked at Ben and then at the shaking Cal. "This is bad. We can't show him. Holy shit."

Ben nodded and Loker took the card and gasped.

**A/N: Sorry it's a short chapter, but I wanted to get it up quickly tonight thanks for reading and reviewing**


	8. I'm Broken

Cal was sick. His fever had spiked back up to 104 and no one could be more worried then Gillian was at the moment.

He was in the hospital, hadn't been awake for two days when he had found the body of Theresa Cunningham.

This hadn't gone well that day. He'd been freaking out and then just lost it.

_Loker set the ID card down on Cal's desk and Ben quickly picked it up and put it in his pocket. He refused to let Cal see it._

_"Don't you think he should know?" Eli asked, looking between Gillian and Ben quickly._

_Gillian sighed inwardly and shook her head. "No... it will just make things worse. He'll get even more scared. We can't do that to him." She took a deep breath and walked over to Cal._

_Cal had his eyes squeezed shut and he was shaking his head, muttering something to himself._

_She wasn't sure if he was reassuring himself that everything would be okay, or if he was insisting that he was in danger._

_"Cal?" she asked. She sat down beside him and took a hold of his arm._

_"Ah!" He jumped and squirmed out of Gillian's grip. "D-Don't touch me..." he whimpered._

_"Lightman. It's okay." Ben walked up and went to lay his hand on Cal's shoulder. He fell to the ground after Cal's fist met his face._

_"Get away from me!" Cal yelled at Ben. He looked at Eli and walked over towards him. "Is she okay? The... the girl out there."_

_Eli looked towards Gillian for an answer. Should he lie to Cal? Wouldn't it be for the better? Cal would't be so worried._

_"Well?" Cal pushed._

_Ben stood up and rubbed his aching nose._

_"Um..." Loker looked towards Ben for help._

_"She's dead." Ben said without hesitation._

_Cal's eyes got wide and he looked at Gillian. "Is... is that..." His breathing picked up and he ran his hands through his hair. "No... no... no..." His chest quickly rose with each terrified gasp of air. "Really?" He swallowed loudly and shook his head. "This can't be happening. She's _dead_? Oh God..." He rubbed his weary eyes and walked towards Gillian._

_She took a step back, but then he grabbed her by the waist and tightly hugged her. He buried his face in the space between her neck and shoulder and cried. He just held onto her and cried._

_She pointed towards the door, signaling for everyone to leave._

_"Is he crying?" Loker asked._

_"You'd be crying your eyes out if it was you," Ria snapped and pushed him from the room._

_Gillian laid her hands on the higher part of Cal's back, where she knew there was no scars. She laid her head on his and lightly kiss the top of his head. "Cal..." she whispered._

_"Gillian...? Why am I so weak?" His voice was muffled against her body._

_"You are not weak," she said strongly. He was NOT weak. Not by any stretch of the imagination._

_He looked at her and said. "I am scared to have you touch me, Gill. I'm... I'm broken. God, I'm just so scared." He stood up straight and held his eyes shut._

_"Cal."_

_"What?" Now his voice was muffled from his hands that covered his reddened face._

_She pulled his hands down and held his face in her soft hands. "You... are so strong. You've got this. You will be just fine."_

_"Stop saying that!" he yelled, taking her off guard._

_She yanked her hands down and stepped back with a scared look._

_He took a hard breath and said, "I'm not going to be fine Gillian. I'm not sage. I stopped being safe when Shaughn attacked me!" _

_"Cal, that's not true."_

_"It is! I'm screwed Gillian. I'm going to die!"_

He'd passed out. He got overheated and the stress took him over and he went out. So he lost it and passed out.

He hasn't woke up since. His temperature slowly went up to 104 and then doctors got worried with his physical shape.

He got extremely sick and now they are worried with how he will be when he wakes up.

It was decided that he would need a therapist. A physical therapist to help him with dealing with the pain, and also a psychological therapist for obvious. He needs help. He is looking at life like he will never make it out alive. He needs to look at it like, he still has a good forty years left. He needs to see the ups rather than the downs. He needs to understand that there's still at least half a glass of water.

Gillian looked at him now, with Emily close beside her.

Emily hadn't been taking what was happening well. Loker had been the idiot to tell her about Theresa _and _about the card with the message.

She stared at her father with eyes that Gillian didn't think could get so large.

She cried when she found out. She held Gillian until doctors came in to talk about Cal.

She was terrified on her father's behalf and Gillian as terrified for the same reasons.

Staring at Cal now, she finally saw. Cal was mutilated. He was tor apart and just spread out all over the place. He would never be the same. As much as she wanted to say that he would eventually be alright, she knew it wasn't going to happen.

Nobody really knew when he was going to wake up. It was worrying.

He could. They all knew that, of course. He would wake up and he would live, but he just wouldn't be the same and he might have the same problem with sickness for his whole life. Simple things like stress could get him sick.

.:.

"He's in the hospital again. He's sick or something." Shaughn walked around the room he was in.

"Yeah. He got really sick." David nodded and rubbed the back of his neck.

"You have doubts David?"

"No." David shook his head and stood up straighter.

"You know what's next?"

"What?"

"He's already pretty crazy... right? Well. We are going to drive him absolutely insane."

"How?" David was already scared.

"We're going to take him in again. This is no longer distracting the FBI. I think I'm ready to retire this business... which means that this is my big finale."

"Do we really need to do it to this guy?"

"Nevermind. I'm not ready to quit this stuff. But I do want to have a little fun with this guy. He's pretty strong, as much as I hate to admit it... so I'll keep going with him."

David sighed heavily, knowing that that was the best he could get out of Shaughn.

**A/N: Sorry it's another short one, but we have some epic storms where I am along with flooding and all that good stuff... so i'll try to keep up my updating, but I have some exams and things like that. THanks for reading and reviewing!**


	9. I

He'd woke up eventually, as everyone knew he would. But he hadn't said a word. Ben tried to talk to him. Dr. Wahl tried. Gillian tried. Emily tried. Even Zoe tried, but they got nothing.

He stared at the wall. All the time.

At the moment, Emily was sitting with him in the hospital room. She was sitting on the bed and talking to him. Gillian poked her head in to catch a part of the one-sided conversation.

"So... I had a good day today. I got a 98 on my math test. Which is really good compared to how I have been doing. My grades are coming up, but my social studies grade seems to be falling. I'm not sure what it is. Maybe I'm just distracted, you know?" She looked at him, as if she thought maybe this time he would reply.

"Mom's worried about you. She asks how you're doing almost every hour. I don't know what to tell her, dad. How are you doing?"

He stared at the wrinkles in the blanket, seemingly not paying attention to her. But that was a lie. He was hearing everything she said, but he just couldn't bring himself to reply. He didn't know what to say. If he even mumbled something he would lose it again. He'd be scared and he just couldn't do that anymore.

She ran her fingers through the palm of his hand.

He shivered slightly. It tickled.

"Your hands are soft. I remember them being rough. Have you been using lotion or something?" She smiled and laid her head on his shoulder. "Dad... please talk to me..."

He took a deep breath.

"I miss you," she whispered painfully. "I haven't heard your voice in days... Dad. Please." She felt a tear run down her cheek.

Gillian stepped in and smiled. "Hey, Emily... how are you doing?"

She sniffled and wiped her eyes. "I'm fine. He won't talk."

Gillian nodded and sat beside Emily. "He needs time."

"Time for what?" Emily asked, looking up at Gillian.

"He needs time to get a hold of himself." She sighed and said, "He's just... he doesn't have the ability to control himself. He needs control before he can talk to us, or he'll just lose it all over again. Does that make sense?"

Emily nodded. "I guess. It doesn't make it any easier."

"Yeah... it doesn't. But I am sure that eventually he will figure things out and talk to us. He's just shutting himself down right now. Like a computer."

"He's hibernating," Emily whispered.

Gillian smiled and nodded. "Exactly."

"So... how long does it take?"

"I don't know, honey. However long he makes it take."

"Can he hear what I'm saying, or is he like... totally somewhere else?" Emily stood up and crossed her arms over her chest.

"The doctor said that he could. Kind of like a person in a coma. You talking to him helps him get stronger."

Emily smiled. "That makes me happy."

"Good. We can't have everyone sad." Gillian kissed Emily's forhead, lightly rubbed Cal's hand and said, "We should go home. Do you want me to give you a ride?"

She took a deep breath and kissed her father's cheek. "Goodnight, Dad. I'll come and talk to you tomorrow."

She looked at Gillian and said, "That'd be great. Thanks."

Having a reason for his... current state made everything easier. He now could make up a reason for the way he was acting. For why he wouldn't talk. For why he couldn't say a word.

He looked around the hospital room. It only brought him back to a month ago when he was stuck in this hellhole. The TV was on, but he didn't recognize the show and he wasn't interested.

There was a nurse in the corner of the room, preparing what was most likely dinner.

There were machines around him, but they weren't important. Nothing they kept him alive. Nothing that he really _needed._

In the corner of the room was his clothes, folded up on a chair. The clothes he had been wearing when he found the girl. Supposedly her name was Theresa.

The nurse walked over and smiled fakely. "Here's your dinner, Mr. Lightman." She smiled and set a tray in front of him.

Macaroni and cheese. Water. Carrots. Nothing he was interested in.

He didn't bother telling her that he wasn't hungry, he just looked away and out the window.

It was dark outside. The stars could easily be seen, along with the large moon.

"Please eat, Mr. Lightman. You can't go three days without any food."

This time he shook his head.

"Mr. Lightman," she repeated, hoping to get his attention.

"Rachel." Dr. Wahl walked in and Cal looked at him.

"Yes, sir?" She turned towards him and sighed. "He won't eat."

"I'll take care of this." He nodded towards the door, indicating for her to leave.

"Alright. I'm sorry."

"No, no. Don't worry." He winked and curiously looked at Cal.

Cal looked back but his face held no expression.

"Why aren't you eating?" William - Dr. Wahl - asked, turning his head and studying Cal.

Cal ignored him and looked back to the window, not interested in the lecturing Dr. Wahl had to do.

"Why aren't you talking to me?"

He already knew the answer to that question. Cal didn't need to answer it.

"Have you spoken to anybody?"

Ignoring him was easier. Just not listening to what he was asking.

"It's not healthy to not talk."

_Yeah, well I've been doing a lot of things that aren't healthy lately. Do I look healthy to you? I'm a wreck. _He wished he had the nerve to speak. He wanted to talk. He just wasn't strong enough.

"Please, Dr. Lightman. Could you just say something, so that we know you are alright?"

_I'm not talking to you. If I was to talk to anybody... it would be Emily or Gillian. NOT you._

Cal took a deep breath and shook his head.

"Could you write something for me?" William grabbed a pad of paper and a pen. "Just write a word. Yes. No. Pie. Anything."

Cal took the pad and stared at the yellow paper with the blue stripes. He got the pen in his hand, preparing to write. He laid the end of it on the paper, making a dark blue dot. He drew out one line, then stopped and thought for a moment. He added two lines, making an 'I' and stopped again.

He shook his had and handed it back to Dr. Wahl.

"Good. That's something. An 'I'. Well maybe you can finish whatever you were writing tomorrow."

Cal stared at the ground and tightened his jaw. He was _so _weak. Why?

**A/N: Hmm... what do you think he was writing? Here a hint: It's a pretty long word. Thanks for reading and reviewing!**


	10. M

Dr. Wahl encouraged him to finish the word, but he was done writing. He didn't want to do it yesterday, and he didn't want to do it today. He did it yesterday justto prove to himself that he wasn't completely lost. He had a little something in him if it came down to it.

Emily came in right after school, but she didn't say anything. She just climbed onto the bed and laid her head on Cal's shoulder while they both watched the news. Something about some devastating tornadoes in Alabama. Emily gave the occasional pout - Cal picked up - but she didn't talk for his sake.

Gillian came in earlier in the day, talked to Dr. Wahl for a bit and tried to get him to write something herself. He noticed that she was pushing more than Emily. She really wanted him to stop being so unopen. Emily just wanted him to take his time and be okay.

He'd been asked a question today. A question that seemed to dig right into his soul and has been nagging at him. He wanted to find an answer to that question, but he was scared to find it. It was a harsh question, that a doctor had no right asking, but it really got to him. And Cal was sure that was what Dr. Wahl had intended.

_"You haven't talked in three days." Dr. Wahl stared at Cal._

_Cal didn't reply, as he hadn't for the past three days._

_Dr. Wahl wrote something down and curiously looked at Cal. "Do you love your friend? What's her name... uh Gillian?"_

_Yes. Yes he loved her. But he couldn't talk! Didn't Dr. Wahl understand that? Why was that so hard for him to get? He was a doctor, for Heaven's sake! He should know this stuff. He just couldn't talk. Not yet._

_"Are you going to talk? You can't go forever without speaking."_

_Cal had just tuned him out. Picking up the occasional words, but he truly didn't care what Dr. Wahl had to say. Until that question. That dreadful question that was eating away at him._

_"How does it feel to be broken? Torn apart and had everything good torn right out of you? How does that feel?"_

_Cal looked at Dr. Wahl and his mouth fell open._

_Dr. Wahl rose his eyebrows at Cal's reaction and said, "You think about that."_

And Cal had been all day.

.:.

Gillian was sitting in her office, her legs pulled to her chest, trying to find a way to get comfortable on her cold couch, knowing that Cal hadn't spoken a word in 72 hours.

She was thinking about how good he had been doing before they ran into Theresa. They had fought yes, but the road to happiness was always bumpy.

She was also thinking about when she found out about Cal. That had been a dreadful day.

_Loker laughed and stared at Gillian. "Question."_

_"What?" she asked, leaning back in her chair and spinning a pen between her fingers._

_"Are you single?"_

_"Why the hell would you ask me that?"_

_Ria laughed and he shrugged. "I'm just wondering what your relationship status is because, if your free-"_

_"She's taken." Torres raised her eyesbrows as she said this._

_"I am not!" Gillian argued. "Who am I taken by?"_

_Eli and Ria exchanged looks and then laughed slightly._

_"What? I have no clue what you are talking about."_

_Loker chuckled and asked, "Are you serious? You don't know?"_

_Gillian sighed loudly and insisted, "Tell me!"_

_"Lightman! No guy here could even get CLOSE to you because they all know that Lightman would kill them."_

_She frowned and shook her head. "That's not true," she whispered._

_"Whatever. Where is Lightman?" asked Eli._

_"Out. I don't know. He never tells me," Gillian said with a shrug. _

_Ria smiled and stood up. "We're serious. Lightman has you all to himself, and it's funny because he doesn't really. He just does to other men, but he won't even tell you."_

_"That is ridiculous." Gillian shook her head and pulled out her buzzing phone. "Hello?" The smile on her face disappeared and was replaced with a look of pure terror._

_"Foster?" Loker asked worriedly._

_"Gillian?" Ria echoed._

_"Oh, God, no. That's not even possible... H-How? When? Was it a long time ago?" she asked desperately._

_"What happened?" Ria took a step towards Gill._

_Gillian hung up and stared at them both with wide eyes. "We need to go. Now. Come on." She ran outside to her car._

_.:._

_When she arrived it was just Ben, but apparently there were ambulances on the way. He was kneeling beside an unconscious and bloody Cal._

_She fell beside him and her eyes got wider than what seemed possible. "How could this have happened?"_

_"Shaughn Stanley." Ben clenche his jaw._

_"No." She refused to believe that._

_"Yeah." Ben handed her a note that on it said, 'The Work of Shaughn Stanley'._

_.:._

_She later stood next to Emily and Zoe in the hospital. Zoe hadn't been mean or snide like usual. She just stood their holding Emily's hand, while Gillian held the other._

_"It's going to be okay," Zoe continued to whisper._

_Gillian would nod and then walk around the waiting room. _

_"He won't die." Loker said. "Shaughn Stanley doesn't kill people. He just ruins their lives by ripping away all the innocence that they may have had at one time. He just changes their life drastically. He doesn't end it."_

_"Shut up, Loker," Ben hissed._

_.:._

_Then Cal didn't move and just stared at the wall. He didn't talk. He didn't smile. He didn't react to anything. _

They were back to the beginning.

.:.

Dr. Wahl got the brilliant idea to have Emily ask Cal to write another letter. He heard Emily arguing with him, not wanting to do it. But she did. And Cal obeyed. She was his daughter. She had to know what was best for him, right? He loved her. He had to listen to her.

He wrote an 'm', having some trouble with the humps. It wasn't his normal handwritng, but he didn't care. She could read it and it earned him a kiss on the cheek and a 'thank you so much, dad, good job' and that always made him happy.

**A/N: Sorry about the late post. Lotsa stuff going on. I'm gonna post on Baby Brother tonight and I'm starting another story. Thanks for reading and reviewing! Oh and as a side project I'm writing a funny story about Tim Roth and Lindsay Lohan with a friend... lemme know if you want to read it ^.^**


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